Shop, Shop, Till Ya Drop!
by Kaylie Kent
Summary: Superman is faster than a speeding bullet; more powerful than a locomotive; able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. So why can't he go Christmas shopping?!


Hello, fellow readers!! ^_^ Okay, a little late for Christmas, I admit it...-_- But I figured you might enjoy it anyway. :) So...read away! :D  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to DC comics, not me! (But you could have figured *that* out.)  
  
"Shop, Shop, Till Ya Drop!"  
by Kaylie Kent kayliekent@hotmail.com  
Rated G  
-~-~-~  
  
Every year in December, three holidays smack the people of the Earth painfully in the face. They are Christmas, Chanukah, and Kwanzaa, with Christmas, quite frankly, being the most popular among the three. Heck, even people who aren't Christian celebrate it! Perhaps this is because of the famous Santa Claus myth - but perhaps not. We do know, however, that Christmas is a time of giving and receiving, a time of being with your friends and family and sharing that love with the rest of the world (the spending time with family part must be why teenagers hate it so much). For some people, Christmas is the best day of the year.   
  
Others, however, are not so crazy about it - and they have a good reason to dislike it! There is one little problem with Christmas (or any other holiday for that matter), and it all goes under the tree - presents. And to get presents, one must shop. Some people *do* like shopping, but the sane, or the paranoid insane, don't. Here's what happens when a superhero-disguised-as-a-mild-mannered-reporter goes Christmas shopping three days before the holiday...  
***  
  
Clark timidly walked through the double doors of the Metropolis Plaza. Inside, he winced at the sight of the bulging building. God, he hated shopping. Just *hated* it. Compulsive shoppers. Sold out signs. Over-due credit cards. Kleptomaniacs. They all played a role in making shopping miserable for Clark. And of course, he usually just ordered his clothes from magazines. But this time magazines could not fulfill his duties. Why? Simple - the holidays. Christmas was a fun holiday, he'd admit to that, but the malls brought out the worst in people.   
  
Clark looked down at his list. He had to buy gifts for: his parents, Kara, Lois, Jimmy, Perry, other friends at work. The problem: *what* to get them? It had to be something that they would use and enjoy. Not cheap, or else they might have have thought *he* was cheap and didn't care about their friendship. On the other hand, not expensive either, especially with Lois, because he didn't want them to get the impression that his friendship was *too* tight, and plus they might have felt obligated to buy something just as good...or better.   
  
He decided to try for his parents first. What would they want? Exchanging gifts used to be so much easier for him when he was little. All he had to do was make them something like a sock puppet. They'd treat it like royalty, even though he knew, looking back, it really wasn't all that great. But they had accepted it. Now, however, it would not work that way. 'Welcome to the real world,' he mentally reminded himself. He remembered his mother saying that she needed a new set of dishes. Maybe that would be a good start...  
  
Looking around, he realized just how huge the mall was. It *did* take up the entire block, after all, and he knew it would be big, but the inside it seemed to swallow *ten* blocks! But, he did not visit the plaza on a daily basis, which made the inside seem bigger. Escalators, elevators, stairs, toy stores, clothing stores, restaurants, ice cream parlors, comic stores, video stores, garages; they were all right in front of him, yet scattered about all over, hidden behind the people - oh, the people! There were too many ever to count!   
  
And then another other problem that he was just reminded of: How would he find anything? Even as Superman, he could get lost for hours! Weren't there any maps around?! Gulping hard, he decided to take the left side and see if he could find an information desk.  
  
Walking and walking and walking; that was what it felt like for the mild mannered man in the neat suit, who really did not feel mild mannered at the moment. He had only been walking for about five minutes in reality, but out of nervousness, Clark estimated at least two hours, until at last, a map, or rather, a legend. Relieved, he walked over to the legend, and tried to read it. He caught on fast - he was naive when it came to shopping, he knew that perfectly well, but that had nothing to do with reading a map.   
  
Reading it carefully, he traced his index finger along the paths, and, soon enough, he found what he was looking for: Macy's. According to commercial ads, he figured he would be able to find dishes and any other cooking ware there, as it said, on the third floor. Grinning for the first time since he had arrived, he headed towards the escalator. It was an easy task, standing patiently on the step, waiting for himself to be lifted up the floor - he did that everyday at work. No harm done at all.  
  
He walked up the step and onto the flat platform and continued his brisk walk. It looked as if things were beginning to look up, and so soon too! (Although Clark had not realized it was that soon, as the walk before hand had seemed much longer than it actually was.) Why did shopping seem so horrible, he wondered, when it was as easy as this? In a few minutes he would be able to scratch his parents off the list, and then it would be a cinch for the others...except Lois, that is. He had no clue at all what to give her: she was not like anyone he had ever met before. She was tough, savvy, and had a strong personality. Clark couldn't help but like her. But he had no idea what she would want! He decided he would find something for her later.  
  
Into Macy's he went, followed by a trip to the third floor, and then a few steps later led him to a sold out sign where the on-sale dishes should have been. Hmm, so that was why he hated shopping so much. Now, how could he *possibly* forget *that*? Sighing, he climbed the stairs down to the first floor and walked right out. Finding an empty bench nearby, he took a seat. A walk in the park, huh? he thought sarcastically. Maybe he should just drop his parents down to the bottom of the list and concentrate on the next lucky customer: Jimmy Olsen. What did *he* want? Well, Clark knew that Jimmy wanted Perry to hire him as a photographer instead of continuing freelance. But he also knew that his camera had broken; he was merely petting an animal at the zoo when it happened, when somebody knocked him down and he lost grip of his camera and it sank into the pond waters. Jimmy lived in "Suicide Slum", or Hob's Bay, and did not have a lot of money, so Clark figured that this would be the perfect gift for him.  
  
Standing with his frown upside down, Clark straightened his tie and headed back towards the legend. Following its directions, he walked straight down a few paces and turned left, and eureka! There it was: Megabyte's Electronics. With renewed hope, he strolled in.   
  
If he were a normal human he would surely have coughed or hagged as soon as he opened the glass door, for smoke consumed the entire room. Clark wondered how any electronics could survive without a window. Glancing over at the cold steel counter on the left side of the room, he realized that the smoke's source was the musty, foul cigar of the clerk. The clerk was a frightening image as well: extremely plump, bearded, and he wore a white (and dirty) tank top with grubby worn-out blue (although you could barely notice that now) jeans. His smug expression wrote, "Get out of my face, Farmboy, before I kick it to Italy!" Clark suddenly found himself feeling awkward.   
  
"Can I help you?" The man's Texan accent had a hint of disapproval.   
  
Clark ignored his unnecessary misery. "I want to by a camera."  
  
The man replied, "What kind?"  
  
"A good one."  
  
"I got plenty of good ones. Be more specific."  
  
Clark hesitated. What kind of camera would Jimmy want? "Can you make any suggestions?"  
  
"What do I look like, a commercial ad? I'm a clerk; I sell, I don't advertise."   
  
Narrowing his eyes, Clark said, "It's a clerk's job to make suggestions and help the customer as well as sell."  
  
The man snorted and rolled his eyes. "I don't go by those rules, and ain't no one is gonna stop me."  
  
"No. No one will stop you. You'll have to stop that yourself - when you drive away customers." And with that, Clark turned away.  
  
The man almost choked on his cigar. "Hey, come back here!!!" But Clark had already left.  
  
'Well, that was a dead end,' Clark thought as sighted a ice cream concession. He decided that he could go for an egg nog frozen yogurt, his all-time favorite treat. He discovered it when he first moved to Metropolis. He had bought Jimmy one of them out of the goodness in his heart, and decided to try one as well, just for the heck of it. And boy - was it good! Never was an egg nog frozen yogurt sold in Smallville - but then, that was *Smallville.*  
  
The line was a short wait, and when the line did end, Clark clearly stated his order to the ditzy blonde teenager, who very obviously didn't want to be there by her obscene attitude. Twice she misinterpreted his order before someone else finally told him that there wasn't any egg nog left. Displeased, Clark found himself eating and paying for an unwanted chocolate cone.   
  
After finishing his cone (actually he did not finish it, for after a few bites he discovered its intolerable taste and threw it in the trash) he decided to take the elevator up three levels and stop at another, hopefully more reliable electronics store. Cyber Indulgence, as it was called, was said to be one of the best electronics stores - why Clark didn't check there first, he did not know - and it looked it, too! Electronics of all different kinds flooded the shelves; video games lined up against the wall; the room bustled with customers, none crazed as he had thought, all wanting a share of the goods; the clerks, this time, seemed more enthusiastic and dependable than that bimbo at the ice-cream concession or the man from Megabyte's Electronics.  
  
"Can I help you, Sir?" one of the clerks offered Clark.  
  
Clark nodded. "I need a camera - a good one. Can you make any suggestions?"  
  
It did not take long for Clark to realize that this employee was very talkative and *way* too enthusiastic. The most Clark could do was nod and smile and try to keep up. After about two million, one hundred thousand suggestions, he finally settled on a very nice-looking waterproof camera - after all, that *was* the way Jimmy's original camera had broke in the first place.   
  
"Alright, sir, please wait in line now," said the employee, and with a waterproof camera in hand, Clark took his place at the end of the long line.  
  
Waiting and waiting and waiting. Standing and standing and standing. 'Jeez, doesn't this line *ever* move?!' he wondered. And when the line finally *did* move, and it was his turn, more bad luck sprung upon him; apparently, the price of the camera was $399.99!   
  
"What?! Just for a camera?!" Clark shouted, without realizing that everyone in the shop had heard.   
  
The clerk, looking as worried as ever for his business could be at stake, tried his best to pacify Clark's outrage by making swift hand motions to lower his voice. "Please, sir, this is one of the best of the stores, the elite of them all--"  
  
"I don't care, all I wanted was a simple reliable camera!" Clark's yells attracted more of the customer's attention.  
  
The clerk tried another approach. "Just think how happy the person receiving this camera will be. After all, presents is what Christmas is all about, right?--"  
  
Clark blinked. "No, Christmas is about family and friends and good-will to humanity. It's about--"  
  
"Uh, sir," the clerk tiredly interrupted him, "there's a line."  
  
Clark whizzed around to see the long line of customers, impatiently waiting for their turns. He turned back to the clerk and rested the camera on the glass counter. "And I'm off it."   
  
"Good riddance," the clerk muttered under his breath as Clark exited.  
  
Annoyed, Clark jammed his left hand into his pocket and used his right hand (or rather the finger of his right hand) to push the elevator button. He was ready to give up. Nothing was going according to plan - actually, he regretted that, because everything *was* going as he expected since he expected nothing but trouble. Either way, he was ready to quit and see if he could order something from easy magazines. The elevator doors slid open with a "swoosh" and he stepped inside, pressing "G" for Garage, where his car was parked.  
  
Down to sixth floor, fifth floor, fourth, third...and then it stopped, and the lights flickered twice and died. Clark raised his eyebrow. Now what? He pressed on "G" again, and the elevator made an attempt, failing. He tried for floor one. Nothing. Floor two. Nadda. *If* he was sitting on the third level, he decided to press "open." It did no good. Now desperate, he pressed "alarm." It, too, failed miserably.  
  
With his super-hearing, he could perceive the voice of an old woman. "Come quick! There's a man trapped in the elevator!" she said.  
  
"We're on it, ma'am," came another woman's voice, "but this might actually take a while. The power's out."  
  
'Oh, great,' Clark thought. A power outage. What *else* would go wrong?  
  
"How long?" questioned the anxious old lady.  
  
"'Bout three hours, I'd say."  
  
'You just had to ask, didn't you?' Clark thought sarcastically. It looked like this would be a long wait...  
  
***  
Three hours and forty-five minutes later, an extremely shook-up Clark emerged from the elevator. Now he couldn't wait to leave that hell-house called a "mall." But what would he get his friends and family? He would worry about that later. As he made the brief walk which would eventually lead him to his car, Clark realized the humor, the irony of his shopping adventure: he was Superman, faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive - so why couldn't he just buy a damn gift?!  
  
He gave an humorless inward laugh and, obviously not paying enough attention, bumped straight into his partner from the Daily Planet, Lois Lane.   
  
"Hey watch it, jerk--" she broke off abruptly once she saw Clark. "*Smallville*?? Going last-minute shopping, huh?"  
  
Clark nodded weakly. "You too?"  
  
"Yeah. Uh...shopping isn't exactly my thing, but..." She shrugged. "As much as I hate the holidays, I figured I might as well get it out of the way today."  
  
Clark said, "Good luck. I didn't."  
  
Lois raised her eyebrow. "No, huh? And here I was lead to believe that farmboys could do this with their eyes closed. Tell you what - you can tag along with me for a while and I'll help - but just this once, and then you're on your own."  
  
"I thought shopping wasn't your thing," said Clark.  
  
Lois said, "It isn't, but it still has to be done. And I know how."  
  
Clark smiled. "Thanks."  
  
Lois nodded. "Now, who's first on the list?"  
  
THE END  
  
-~-~-  
All compliments, constructive criticism (NOT flames), and other comments are very welcome. Happy shopping! ^_~ 


End file.
